


pretend this is a unique title

by jumpinjazzcat



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, also his personality is like so different from mine its exhausting, javid even though i really didnt want to write it because davey is too cool for me to write, sprace, these boys are dumb, they do be misunderstanding doe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27801199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpinjazzcat/pseuds/jumpinjazzcat
Summary: basically spot is in love with race and jack is in love with davey but everything gets misunderstood so race and davey try to get spot and jack together. it's a fucking mess and i wrote this as a christmas present for my friend
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 16
Kudos: 25
Collections: newsies fics by me!





	1. the start of.....something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agent43](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent43/gifts).



> this is bad <3 sorry not sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jack and spot are pining and thats all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is super short  
> but not really i wrote this in class so its not my fault that its short

"You got a crush on anyone?" Jack asks Spot, completely out of the blue. They're playing Mario Kart (Spot is kicking Jack's ass, because Spot is the king of Mario Kart) and eating a shit ton of Welch's fruit snacks. Jack refuses to eat any of the peach-flavored fruit snacks because, according to him, they "taste like ass."

"I plead the fifth." Spot responds.

"So that's a yes, right?"

"I plead the fifth." Spot repeats, throwing a peach fruit snack at him.

"Who is it?" Jack pries, chucking the fruit snack back at Spot.

"Listen, Cowboy," Spot sighs, "I know that you're only asking this so you can distract me from the game."

"Am not!"

"Are too! You always do this when I start winning!"

Jack rolls his eyes, and shuts the TV off. "Spot. Spotty. Spotty-boy. My sweet summer child. Just tell me who you have a crush on."

"No. Why do you want to know anyway?"

"I just do! You're my best friend, you should tell me things like this!"

"Do _you_ have a crush on anyone, Jack?"

"Yes. But I'm not telling unless you tell me."

Spot sighs. Jack's right (he usually is. It's infuriating). Jack isSpot's best friend. And they tell each other everything. It's just that this is something that Spot would rather keep private. The issue is that Jack will eventually find out who it is, and then Spot will never hear the end of it.

"It's...well, it's someone that you know. I'm not telling you because you can't keep your mouth shut, but yeah."

"Oooooooh....Spotty has a crush on one of his friends!" Jack says, poking Spot's cheek. Spot slaps his hand away.

"I want to tell him, I really do, but I just...I don't want to ruin the friendship, you know?" Jack nods, and Spot continues. "It sucks because he's one of my best friends and I'd really really really want to do dumb couple stuff with him, like hold his hand, and go on movie dates, and like...maybe a fuckin' picnic or two, I don't know."

"Jesus, Sean, just _tell him._ "

"I can't! There's no way that he feels the same about me, so there's no use."

"But how will you ever know if that's true if you don't tell him?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Whatever you say, boss. Anyway! Let's talk about me." Jack stretches out over the couch, and Spot rolls his eyes as he sits in the chair next to Jack.

"What am I, your therapist?"

"Yes. Anyway. I have a huge-ass crush on Davey. And I know what you're thinking. 'Oh, Jack! You should just tell him! That's what you told me to do!' But I'm in a different kinda pickle. I mean, Davey is fully committed to the idea that Sarah and I will end up together. Also, he and I have this weird sort of kind of physical thing? Like we hold hands, we cuddle, but it's completely platonic. Honestly, I've gotten used to it and I'm fine with keeping it this way. But I really, really want to kiss him." Jack takes a deep breath, because he had said that entire thing in one breath.

Spot stares at him. "You, Jack Kelly, are a mess."

"Obviously. Okay so! For the past couple of minutes, I've been trying to figure out who you have a crush on. The issue is that we have far too many friends. I've ruled out a few. It can't be Al, because you two literally hate each other-"

"I thought you were only considering people who I'm _friends_ with." Spot interrupts.

"You and Al are friends! You just hate each other, and it's not homoerotic or anything, so he's ruled out. Okay, it can't be Davey, because if it is I will literally break your face-"

"It's not Davey." Spot interrupts, _again._

"Stop interrupting me. Okay, you don't seem remotely interested in Specs or Buttons, and the rest of the group is totally not your type."

"What's my type, Mr. Know-It-All?"

"Himbos and chaotic idiots, obviously. So that leaves Hot Shot, me, and Race."

"Shit." Spot mutters. Jack has narrowed it down, and one of his answers is goddamn _correct._ Spot hates him.

"Holy shit, wait," Jack says, sitting up, "Is one of those right?"

"Yeah." Spot groans.

"Who? It's totally Race, isn't it."

"Yeah."

"Let's fuckin' go!" Jack says, pumping his fist. 

"I hate you, Jack Francis Kelly."


	2. what's the worst that could happen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jack is dumb and race is a nosy bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IVE HAD TO REWRITE THIS LIKE THREE TIMES BECAUSE I KEEP ACCIDENTALLY REFRESHING

CVS is heaven. At least, it is according to Racetrack Higgins.

It's three in the morning, and Race is dragging the man, the myth, the legend Jack Kelly through the aisles of a CVS. Jack only agreed to coming because:

1) Racetrack Higgins cannot drive. He's always speeding as some random 60's psychedelic rock song blares on the speakers, and Jack would prefer it if his best friend was alive, thank you very much.

2) Race promised to buy him a bag of Skittles. Jack is a whore for Skittles. He would kill, die, literally do anything for them. (Davey thinks that Skittles suck. Jack has reconsidered his crush on Davey many times because of this statement.)

3) Race is, admittedly, very fun to hang out with.

"Raaaaaace," Jack complains, "This is boring."

Race ignores him, dropping yet another bag of candy into the shopping basket that Jack is holding. It's already overflowing with a wide assortment of chips, about 15 bags of Skittles, three Arizona iced teas, and a few packs of gum. It's quite the smorgasbord, really.

Jack groans, and goes back to texting Spot.

"Who have you been texting all night?" Race asks as Jack unlocks the car. It's Race's car, but Jack is driving because of the -ahem- _issue_ stated before.

"Oh, just Spot."

Race tries to peer over Jack's shoulder to look at the phone, but Jack pulls away from him.

"Jack," Race says, lifting an eyebrow, "Why are you being so secretive?"

"I'm not!" Jack protests, still not showing Race his phone.

"Okay, either you're one: flirting with him, two: sexting, or three-my personal favorite-planning a murder."

"I'm not planning a murder, Racetrack."

As soon as Jack says it, he regrets it. He basically just confirmed that he is not, in fact, planning a murder, but that he's doing one of the other options. Which he's not, by the way. He just doesn't want to tell Race what they're talking about because, well. They're talking about him. At least, _Spot_ is talking about Racetrack. More specifically, how he's in love with him. Jack is talking about how deeply in love he is with Davey. It's been going on for hours.

"So you and Spot, huh?" Race asks, and Jack senses something in his tone. Maybe it's disappointment.

"Um."

Well, _shit._ If he says no, Race won't believe him. Either that, or Race will be disappointed that he couldn't figure out what Jack and Spot were talking about, and Jack will feel so bad that he'll just end up telling. If he says yes...

The consequences of saying yes don't seem that bad, actually.

"No!" Jack says, "I mean, yes? I mean-"

"Oooooh," Race says, nodding sagely, "You have a crush on him."

"Yeah," Jack says, forcing a smile, "Don't tell anyone, though."

"I won't. Cross my heart and hope to die."

* * *

Spot is sleeping, having a very odd dream in which Race has turned into a cake and Spot is trying to save him before he gets eaten, when he hears his phone ring. He groans.

It's Jack.

"Kelly, I swear to God, if you're calling me to complain about how much you love Davey-"

"We have an issue. A very, very, very _big_ issue."

 _Oh God,_ Spot thinks, _what the fuck has Jack done this time?_

"Racetrack is under the impression that I have a crush on you."

Spot sits up abruptly, hitting his head on the headboard.

"What. The. Actual. Fuck."

"I'm sorry!" Jack blurts, "I don't know what happened! He was asking what I was texting you about, and I didn't want to tell him because _we were talking about how you're in love with him_ , and then he was like 'oh are you flirting with him?' And now he thinks that I love you or something!"

Spot doesn't say anything for a very long time.

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to murder you." Spot hangs up.

How to kill Jack Kelly? What would get the job done? He could pull a Lamb To The Slaughter and hit Jack on the head with a leg of lamb. Getting rid of the murder weapon would be easy, too. Just cook it and feed it to someone. Or he could do a Landlady-esque murder, and put cyanide in Jack's tea. 

Jack doesn't drink tea.

Spot needs to stop reading Roald Dahl's short stories. They're rotting his brain.

He calls Jack back.

"Okay, here's the plan."

The plan is that Spot and Jack will _not_ tell the truth. They won't lie, either. They just won't say anything. Let Race and Davey come to their own conclusion. Maybe, if they think that Spot and Jack are dating, or have crushes on each other, Davey and Race will be jealous and like, fall in love with them.

It's a stupid plan. Plans that are formed at five in the morning after a night of barely any sleep typically are.

But hey, what's the worst that could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO IM SORRY THIS IS SHORT I WAS "doing my homework" AND MY MOM WAS ABOUT TO COME INTO MY ROOM SO I HAD TO WRAP IT UP


End file.
